


Be with me

by middlemarch



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, star wars: the rise of skywalker (2019)
Genre: Desert, F/M, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Movie, Romance, Soulmates, The Force, Trees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 09:54:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21967408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/middlemarch/pseuds/middlemarch
Summary: And why not, why shouldn't the darkness bring forth light beyond comprehension, beyond understanding?
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	Be with me

The same hour she buried the light-sabers, swaddled together like twins in their shared blanket, the same hour she spoke her name _Rey Skywalker_ to the old woman who nodded, whose eyes were what passed for blue on Tatooine, that was the same hour she first saw a pair of green leaves spring from the desert sand. They were paired on a stem as slender as a hair and if she was not mistaken, it was the same place the light-sabers lay. She was not mistaken. It was the place of the first sapling, the first tree on Tatooine to bear fruit in a thousand thousand years and the petals of its flowers were a silvery blue on the branch, a creamy scrum on the sand like a spilled tumbler of blue-milk. It was the beginning of the grove and the soft rains, of voices that came through leaves and names that tasted tart when ripe, when spoken aloud.

The same hour she buried the light-sabers, the desert wind battering at her as if she could be stopped, the same hour the seed burst forth, Force knew how, that was the same hour she heard his voice across the wastes _The next time I come, the next time Rey the next the next_. That was the same hour she saw a figure on the far ridge, dark against the sky, light against the darkness of her shut eyes. That was the same hour he came to her door, hers now as she’d claimed it, standing there without knocking. She’d drawn him in with one hand, her palm small against his, every fissure between then filled in with gold. It was not worth asking how and she already knew why. She knew when, the same hour Padme laughed, Leia sang, the same hour Aunt Beru would have poured out blue-milk. 

_I’ll expect this_ , she said, walking him through the living quarters. _I’ll expect you to let go and come back, to take my hand every time._

_And if your hands are full?_ he asked. It wasn’t a challenge, it was a question, a worry. He was very tall so she had to tug at his hand for him to drop his head down to hers, to kiss him first, quite softly, to let him know what was Rey and not the whole, shimmering power around them, through them.

_Force knows_ , she said. She smiled and he did too. In the morning, they could see the tree from the window and it was quiet, with only their breath in the air. Her breath became voice, her voice became song, became chant. His dark eyes watched her in the unshadowed dawn.

_The next time, Ben, the next time I take your hand._

She took his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> For the myriad fans who feel Ben Solo deserved better, I'll see your complaint and raise you, Rey too, and why shouldn't something like this happen? The Force can do what it pleases for the canon writers-- it can darn well do even better in fanon :)


End file.
